A: 
A| 

0! 
0! 

1  | 

4l 

2\ 

3| 

9  = 
5  1 
0[ 


HE  INTELLECTUAL 
MISS  LAMB 

FLORENCE  MORSE 
KINGSLEY 


-y 


^ 


r^B-CLARK£C0. 

B0OKSELL£?S55TAT|ONF(;r, 


THE 

INTELLECTUAL 

MISS  LAMB 


You  '11  ha vi-  to  help  me  gel  him  out  ofhi 


uTHE 

INTELLECTUAL 

MISS  LAMB 


BY 


FLORENCE    MORSE   KINGSLEY 

AUTHOR    OF     "THE     TRANSFIGURATION    OF 

MISS    PHILURA,"    "THE     RESURRECTION 

OF    MISS   CYNTHIA,"   ETC. 


NEW   YORK 
THE  CENTURY  CO 

1906 

lr 


Copyright,    1906,  by 
The   Century    Co. 

Published  May,  jqo6 


THE    DE  VINNE    PRESS 


THE 
INTELLECTUAL  MISS  LAMB 


THE 

INTELLECTUAL 

MISS  LAMB 


MISS  R.  LAMB  was  pretty. 
This  might  be  set  down  as 
merely  an  agreeable  statement  per- 
taining to  Miss  Lamb's  sentient 
bodily  structure,  had  her  prettiness 
been  of  the  palely  classic  or  even  of 
the  darkly  severe  order.  But  the 
sort  of  exuberantly  youthful,  kit- 
tenish beauty  exhibited  in  Miss 
Lamb's  pink  and  white,  curl- 
shaded,  cherubic  countenance  was 

[3] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
not  far  from  being  ridiculous 
when  one  perforce  took  into  ac- 
count the  correlative  fact  that  Miss 
Lamb  was  little  more  than  a  walk- 
ing edition  of  the  great  Great- 
head's  "Physiological  Psychology." 
Now,  the  merest  tyro  in  book-mak- 
ing would  know  better  than  to  in- 
vest a  profound  treatise  on  the 
"Philosophy  of  Mind"  with  a  rose- 
colored  binding  pranked  out  with  a 
profusion  of  gold  curlicues  and  il- 
luminated text.  And  this  simple 
illustration  exactly  fits  Miss 
Lamb's  case:  her  binding,  if  one 
may  use  the  term,  was  strikingly 
inappropriate. 

It    is    altogether    probable    that 

[4] 


MISS  LAMB 
Miss  Lamb  herself  recognized  the 
fact  and  deplored  it,  for  she  inva- 
riably wore  the  primmest  and  plain- 
est of  plain  gray  gowns  when  en- 
gaged in  the  arduous  duties  of  her 
profession,  and  her  tendrilly  yellow 
hair  was  sternly  inhibited  from  the 
liberties  it  would  have  liked  behind 
her  pink  little  ears.  More  than  once 
she  was  observed  to  blush  angrily 
when  new  students  focused  dreamy 
stares  of  admiration  upon  her  un- 
deniable charms.  Later,  these  un- 
wary ones  were  likely  to  forget 
that  their  instructor's  eyes  were 
the  color  of  early  violets,  in  their 
efforts  to  recall  the  illusive  state- 
ments of  psychology.      The   inci- 

[5] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 

sive  coldness  of  Miss  Lamb's  de- 
meanor upon  such  occasions  was 
sufficient  to  chill  the  most  exuber- 
ant of  her  youthful  admirers  into 
a  state  of  objectified  reluctantism, 
than  which  there  is  nothing  more 
unpleasant,  when  one  comes  to  un- 
derstand what  the  term  means. 

Miss  Lamb  was  known  to  be 
working  for  her  doctor's  degree 
with  the  same  avid  persistency 
which  she  had  displayed  in  obtain- 
ing lesser  honors.  To  this  praise- 
worthy end  her  corridor  door 
frequently  bore  the  legend:  "En- 
gaged; do  not  knock  or  enter." 

It  was  Meredith  Randolph  who 
inscribed  the  words  "To  whom?" 
[6] 


MISS  LAMB 
after  the  word  "Engaged,"  a  piece 
of  impudence  by  no  means  original 
with  Meredith,  no  fewer  than 
twenty  elderly  alumnae  claiming  to 
have  invented  it  in  the  eighties. 
The  original  thing,  as  might  have 
been  expected,  happened  next :  Miss 
Randolph  not  only  knocked,  but 
entered.  She  also  stopped  behind 
the  closed  door  an  unconscionable 
length  of  time. 

"What  in  the  world—  ?"  yawned 
Spriggy  Post,  when  the  flushed  ad- 
venturess at  length  emerged  to 
view.  "We  've  watched  that  door 
for  an  hour,  and  had  come  to  the 
painful  conclusion  that  you  had 
been  sacrificed  on  the  stony  altar 

[7] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
of  science.     The  creature  's  cold- 
blooded   enough    to    vivisect    an 
angel." 

"Your  closing  remark  very  neat- 
ly describes  what  took  place,  Miss 
Post,"  said  Meredith.  "Allow  me 
to  tender  my  congratulations  upon 
the  astonishing  development  of 
your  intuitive  faculties.  I  agree 
with  you  that  'the  creature  is  en- 
tirely inhuman  at  present,  and 
therefore,  after  careful  study  of 
correlative  psychoses,  I  've  decided 
to  ruin  her  career." 

"What  do  you  care  about  her 
career?"    sniffed    Nancy    Powell. 
"She's  R.  Lamb,  B.A.,  M.A.,  al- 
ready,   and    she'll    shortly   annex 
[8] 


MISS  LAMB 
Ph.D.  to  the  list.  After  that,  in 
the  course  of  nature,  she'll  ripen 
off,  so  to  speak,  till  she  looks  like 
a  last  year's  mullein-stalk.  Those 
pinky  blondes  always  do." 

"What  does  'R.'  stand  for?" 
lazily  inquired  a  freshman. 

"Riddle-of-the-sphinx,  my  inno- 
cent young  friend,"  Miss  Post  told 
her.  "That  is  one  of  the  one  hun- 
dred and  one  weird  peculiarities 
about  Lamby:  she  has  never  seen 
fit  to  acquaint  an  interested  public 
with  the  title  she  bore  as  a  studious 
infant.  She  told  Merry  Ran'  that 
inasmuch  as  her  given  name  did 
not  coalesce  with  the  definite  aims 
and  purposes  of  her  career,  she  had 

[9] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
decided  to  suppress  it.  The  other 
one  hundred  delightful  idiosyn- 
crasies which  distinguish  the  lady 
you  will  find  out  for  yourself  be- 
fore you  take  your  degree,  and  far 
be  it  from  me  to  forestall  the  joys  of 
discovery." 

"On  the  contrary,  our  young- 
friend  will  have  to  be  quick  about 
it,"  observed  Miss  Randolph;  "for 
precisely  at  this  point  you  will  ob- 
serve the  formation  of  an  exceed- 
ingly complex  psychophysical  hal- 
lucination which  will  inevitably 
lead  our  beloved  Lamby  to  the 
matrimonial  altar." 

"To  the  zvhat?"  intoned  the  au- 

[10] 


MISS  LAMB 
dicnce,  like  the  chorus  of  a  Greek 
tragedy. 

"Matrimonial  altar  was  the  des- 
tination I  mentioned,"  mildly  re- 
plied Miss  Randolph.  "Some  of 
you  are  already  aware  that  I  am 
to  be  married  to  Jimmy  Sayre  in 
July ;  but  you  probably  do  not  know 
that  Miss  R.  Lamb,  M.A.,  will  of- 
ficiate on  that  festive  occasion  as 
maid  of  honor." 

"No!"  responded  the  chorus, 
with  fine  rendition  of  despairing 
negation. 

"Yes,"  amended  Miss  Randolph, 
cheerfully.  "I  've  asked  her,  and 
she's  consented." 

[»] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
"What   did  she  say  when   you 
asked  her?"   inquired   Miss  Post, 
with  unconcealed  curiosity. 

"Your  note-books,  young  ladies, 
if  you  please,"  began  Meredith,  ey- 
ing her  hearers  with  chilling  dig- 
nity. "Now,  if  you  are  quite  ready, 
we  will  begin.  Our  astute  and 
erudite  instructor  first  subjected 
your  humble  servant  to  a  brief 
but  searching  examination,  focused 
chiefly  upon  the  correlated  im- 
pulses, instincts,  and  desires  which 
led  up  to  my  present  conscious 
state.  She  deplored  the  inevitable 
sequence,  but  professed  a  lively  in- 
terest in  the  (to  her)  wholly  un- 
familiar psychoses  relating  to  the 

[12] 


MISS  LAMB 
conative  processes  of  so-called 
love-making.  I  regret  to  say  that  I 
flatly  flunked  the  examination,  for 
I  could  n't  for  the  life  of  me  give 
one  analyzable  reason  why  I 
should  have  fallen  in  love  with  Jim- 
my; whereupon  she  propounded 
the  following  axiom,  which  I 
should  advise  you  to  memorize 
at  once:  'The  outreaching  of 
blind,  instinctive  impulse  should 
ever  be  rigorously  inhibited,  else 
why  were  we  given  an  intellect?'" 

The  chorus  gurgled  softly  with 
excessive  joy. 

"Lamby  has  consented  to  act  as 
maid  of  honor  at  my  wedding  for 
the  sole  purpose   of   studying   at 

[13] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
close  range  a  type  with  which  she 
is  wholly  unfamiliar,"  continued 
Miss  Randolph,  unsmilingly,  "but 
which  deserves  some  slight  recog- 
nition in  Lamb's  'Comprehensive 
Primer  of  Physiological  Psychol- 
ogy' (in  process  of  preparation). 
I  refer  to  the  adult  male  human. 
I  will  add  that  Mr.  William  Gregg 
is  to  officiate  as  best  man." 

Nancy  Powell  wiped  her  eyes. 
"Oh,  why  must  I  go  to  Europe  this 
summer  ?"  she  sighed.  "I  sha'  n't 
see  anything  to  compare  with  it!" 

"Tell  me  about  him,"  demanded 
Miss  Post. 

"Do  you  mean  Billy  Gregg? 
Well,  he  's  big,  simple-hearted,  and 

[14] 


MISS  LAMB 
good-looking,  in  the  plain,  clean 
style  we  all  like.  I  should  proba- 
bly have  fallen  in  love  with  him  my- 
self if  I  had  n't  met  the  incompara- 
ble J.  S.  first.  He  11  be  just  the 
one  for  Lamby,"  she  added  com- 
placently. 

"I  call  it  a  mean  shame  to  cast 
pearls  before — " 

"We  're  not  forbidden  to  cast 
them  before  lambs,  my  child,"  Miss 
Randolph  informed  her,  with  a  su- 
perior air. 

An  Excerpt  from  "Types  of 
Mental  Development,  Consisting 
of  Various  Groupings  of  Individ- 
uals according   to    Temperament, 

[15] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
Sex,    Age,    and    Race.     Collected 
and  Tabulated  by  R.  Lamb,  Wel- 
le smawr  College" : 

"Type  XIV:  Individual  No.  i. 
Temperament,  indeterminate;  sex, 
male;  age,  thirty  (approximately) ; 
race,  indeterminate  (probably 
Anglo-American) . 

"Illustrative  Anecdotal 
Notes.  Group  i:  (a)  The  indi- 
vidual, William  Gregg,  is  one  of 
the  few  types  of  the  human  male 
adult  I  have  been  able  thus  far  to 
examine  at  close  range.  What  I 
have  already  ascertained  with  re- 
gard to  this  particular  type  fills  me 
with  an  active  desire  to  know  more 
of  it.  As  the  relation  of  body  to 
[16] 


MISS  LAMB 
mind  affords  in  itself  an  inexhaust- 
ible field  for  research,  I  will  first 
briefly  describe  the  physical  ap- 
pearance of  W.  G.,  keeping  clearly 
in  view  the  fact  that  the  human 
body  represents  merely  a  system  of 
physical  elements  which,  under  ex- 
ceedingly complex  and  obscure  in- 
fluences from  internal  forces,  modi- 
fied by  the  action  of  age,  sex,  and 
environment,  attains  temporarily  a 
certain  morphological  and  physio- 
logical unity. 

"W.  G.  is  an  exceedingly  well- 
developed  specimen,  of  a  fine  and 
commanding  presence.  Arguing 
from  the  outward  aspect  to  the  in- 
ward stream  of  consciousness,  one 

[17] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
would  infer,  at  a  first  inspection,  a 
powerful  and  commanding  intel- 
lect. The  contour  of  the  individ- 
ual's head  and  features  still  further 
confirms  this  primary  inference. 
His  eyes  are  in  color  gray,  with 
glints  of  brown  in  their  depths.  I 
noticed  particularly  that  in  conver- 
sation the  tint  of  the  iris  seemed  to 
darken,  indicating  clearly  the  sin- 
gular force  of  the  cerebral  action, 
I  made,  further,  somewhat  careful 
mental  notes  regarding  the  hair, 
texture  of  the  skin,  etc.,  as  all  of 
these  phenomena  are  invariably 
correlated  to  mind  in  the  most  in- 
timate way. 

[18] 


MISS  LAMB 

"The  brief  table  appended  below 
recalls  these  facts: 

Hair— Dark  brown,  abundant, 
waving. 

Skin— Of  a  brownish  cast  (per- 
haps induced  by  the  action  of  the 
sun). 

Teeth — White,  even,  and  sound 
(as  far  as  I  was  able  to  examine 
them). 

Eyes— Brilliant  gray,  with 
brownish  shadings. 

Brows — Even,   firm,   and   dark. 

Lashes— Long  and  curling. 

Forehead — Medium  height; 
temples  commanding  and  prom- 
inent. 

[19] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
Mouth — Well  cut,  giving  a  smil- 
ing and  agreeable  expression. 

"(b)  I  was  not  able,  in  the  short 
time  allotted  to  conversation,  to 
sound  the  depths  of  W.  G.'s  mental 
processes ;  I  shall  hope  to  do  this  on 
some  future  occasion.  But  the  fol- 
lowing incident,  slight  as  it  is,  may 
possess  an  important  bearing  on 
successive  psychoses.  As  we  (W. 
G.  and  I)  followed  the  newly  wed- 
ded pair  down  the  aisle  after  the 
performance  of  the  marriage  cere- 
mony (more  of  this  under  Indivi- 
dual. Meredith  Randolph. 
Illustrative  Anecdotal  Group 
IV;  note  c),  I  noted  the  fact  that 
W.  G.'s  arm,  upon  which  I  was 

[20] 


MISS  LAMB 
leaning,  trembled  excessively. 
The  fact  interested  me,  pointing  as 
it  did  to  some  corresponding  emo- 
tional disturbance.  When  seated 
in  the  carriage  I  inquired  briefly  as 
to  the  cause  of  the  phenomenon 
noted.   W.  G.'s  reply  surprised  me. 

"  'I  was  wishing  that  I  'd  just 
been  married,'  he  said. 

"  'Indeed,'  I  questioned.  'And 
what  led  to  so  remarkable  a  desire?' 

"  'Do  you  call  it  remarkable?'  he 
asked. 

"  'From  my  standpoint,  yes,' 
I  replied.  I  can  scarce  conceive 
the  momenta  of  mental  movement, 
arrived  at  by  converging  two  wide- 
ly differing  streams  of  conscious- 

[21] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
ness  into  a  single  channel,  as  being 
conducive  to  the  highest  good  of 
the  individual.' 

"He  stared  at  me  fixedly  for  a 
minute,  as  if  trying  to  grasp  the 
full  significance  of  my  comment; 
then  replied  decidedly,  'Well,  do 
you  know,  I  can.' 

"  'But  is  not  this  merely  a  pri- 
mary inference?'  I  asked  lightly. 
'How,  for  example,  can  one  put 
one's  finger  upon  some  definite 
point  and  say,  just  here  emerged 
my  first  sensation  of  yellow,  or  the 
first  feeling  of  esthetical  emotion, 
or  the  first  perception  of  a  human 
face?' 

"  'I  can  do  all  that,'  he  replied, 

[22] 


MISS  LAMB 
with  a  confident  air.  I  Ve  just 
realized  yellow  and  blue  and  pink 
for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  and  I 
shall  know  to  a  dot  when  I  fell 
in-' 

"He  did  not  complete  this  inter- 
esting statement;  and  as  the  car- 
riage at  that  moment  stopped  in 
front  of  the  house,  I  was  not  able 
to  examine  him  further  upon  the 
point.  I  shall  do  so  at  my  earliest 
opportunity." 

Mr.  William  Gregg  to  Mrs.  James 
Sayre. 

"Dear  Mrs.  Sayre:  Some  old 
theological  duffer  once  assured  his 
congregation  that  the  joys  of  the 

[23] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
saved  would  be  indefinitely  en- 
hanced by  beholding  the  tortures  of 
the  damned,  which  they  could  con- 
veniently do  from  the  safe  battle- 
ments of  the  Celestial  City.  Now  if 
you  can  spare  the  time  to  peep  over 
the  rim  of  your  crescent  honeymoon 
you  will  be  able  to  augment  your 
bliss  by  observing  the  sufferings 
of  a  rash  and  impetuous  idiot,  who 
is  decidedly  'out  of  it'  at  the  pres- 
ent writing. 

"I  should  have  waited,  of  course, 
and  conducted  my  courtship  af- 
ter the  time-honored  fashion;  but 
I  could  n't  bear  to  think  of  her 
grinding  away  for  another  year  in 

[24] 


MISS  LAMB 
that  confounded  college.  Besides, 
I  had  somehow  acquired  a  ridicu- 
lous idea  that  she  liked  me.  To 
cut  a  weird  tale  short,  I  ran  down 
on  my  car  to  Wood's  Holl,  where 
she  had  told  me  she  was  going  to 
study  in  some  beastly  biological 
Laboratory.  I  found  her  working 
with  a  microscope  over  a  lot  of 
messy-looking  stuff.  She  said  she 
was  studying  types  of  the  higher 
cryptogams.  I  can't  for  the  life 
of  me  say  why  this  should  have 
caused  me  to  become  temporarily 
deranged ;  but  it  did,  and  I  proposed 
on  the  spot.  I  did  n't  mean  to,  of 
course— at    least    not    then.     She 

[25] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
looked  at  me  as  impersonally  as 
though  I  were  a  jelly-fish,  and  in- 
formed me  that  I  had  completely 
confused  my  primary  inferences. 
She  was  as  sweet  and  cool  as  a 
flower;  and  what  do  you  think  I 
did  next?  I  kissed  her.  I  simply 
could  n't  help  it. 

"I  draw  a  veil  over  the  scene 
that  followed.  Henceforth  I  am 
far,  far  less  to  her  than  any  sort  of 
creature,  vertebrate  or  inverte- 
brate. I  Ve  just  one  spark  of 
comfort  (  ?)  :  she  says  I  may  come 
to  see  her  again,  for— mark  this — 
she's  making  a  tabulated  analysis 
of  my  'type'  which  she  would  like 

[26] 


MISS  LAMB 
to  complete.     Ye  gods!  what  have 
I  done  to  deserve  this  ? 

"Yours  wretchedly, 
"W.  G." 

Mrs.  Sayre  to  Mr.  Gregg. 

"Dear  Billy  :  You  certainly  are 
all  kinds  of  an  idiot.  Yet  I  have 
hopes  of  you.  The  idea  of  your 
not  knowing  any  better  than  to 
propose  to  Lamby  in  a  laboratory ! 
She's  positively  inhuman  under 
such  circumstances,  and  nobody 
knows  that  better  than  I  do.  But 
I  'm  glad  you  kissed  her.  Really, 
that  was  great !  It  '11  prove  such 
a  shock   to   her  perceptions   that 

[27] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
she  '11  study  over  its  correlated 
psychoses  the  rest  of  the  summer. 
In  the  end  you  '11  win.  I  'm  sure 
of  it.  But,  for  goodness'  sake, 
don't  do  any  more  love-making  till 
I  've  had  a  chance  to  advise  you 
further ! 

"Yours  faithfully, 
"Meredith  Randolph  Sayre." 

Excerpt  from  Miss  Lamb's  "Tab- 
ulated Records" 

"Illustrative  Anecdotal 
Notes.  Group  II:  (a)  I  find  the 
individual  W.  G.  of  increasing  in- 
terest. I  am  at  present  inclined  to 
indicate  the  temperament  in  this 
case  as  choleric,  though  posssibly 

[28] 


MISS  LAMB 
the  compound  term  choleric-senti- 
mental would  more  nearly  indicate 
the  fact.  I  own  that  I  was  sur- 
prised to  find  the  sentimental  ex- 
pressing so  strongly  in  the  indivi- 
dual W.  G. ;  I  should  thoughtlessly 
have  credited  him  with  a  greater 
degree  of  subjectivity. 

"At  this  point  I  am  inclined  to 
recall  the  principle  of  relativity  as 
somewhat  explanatory  of  the  suc- 
ceeding phenomena.  Thus,  W.  G., 
being  profoundly  impressed  by  the 
scene  of  the  wedding  festivities,  re- 
ceived therefrom  a  complex  mental 
impression,  resulting  in  ( I )  a  com- 
plete disturbance  of  ideation;  (2) 
a   consequent  modification   of   ac- 

[29] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
companying  feelings ;  (3)  a  distinct 
psychophysical  hallucination. 

"This  latter  phenomenon  was, 
curiously  enough,  focused  upon 
nryself  in  the  most  singular  man- 
ner. So  far,  I  am  forced  to  admit 
the  insufficiency  of  analysis  as  cor- 
related to  the  synthetic  activity  of 
my  own  consciousness.  I  have  de- 
termined to  reserve  its  rapidly 
succeeding  psychoses  for  more  de- 
tailed and  careful  study  at  some  fu- 
ture time,  when  the  inevitable  agi- 
tation attending  the  event  shall 
have  subsided  to  an  appreciable 
degree. 

"I  am  sensitive  that  there  is  much 

[30] 


MISS  LAMB- 
to    be   learned    in    this   unwonted 
experience." 

ii 

(three  years  later) 

Mr.  Wm.  Gregg  to  Mrs.  James 
Sayre. 

"Dear  Mrs.  Sayre:  You'll  not 
be  surprised,  perhaps,  to  learn  that 
I  'm  booked  for  Russia,  Australia, 
and — the  Lord  knows  where. 
Having  scored  a  distinct  failure 
in  the  role  of  devoted  lover 
which  I  too  hastily  elected,  I  have 
decided  to  betake  myself  to  parts 

t3i] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
unknown  and  stay  there  till  I  have 
succeeded  in  forgetting — Psychol- 
ogy- 
"I  saw  her  yesterday — for  the 

last  time,  I  believe.  The  interview 
was  undoubtedly  an  interesting 
one  from  a  scientific  point  of  view; 
but  I  was  unable  to  appreciate  it. 
The  net  result  of  my  three  years  of 
misplaced  devotion  lies  before  me 
as  I  write,  in  the  shape  of  a  thin, 
small  volume  entitled  'Lamb's 
Primer  of  Physiological  Psycho- 
logy: With  Copious  Explanatory 
Notes  and  Descriptive  Tables.'  It 
contains  my  name,  and  the  neat 
autograph  of  the  author,  'R.  Lamb, 
B.A.,  M.A.,  Ph.D.' 
[32] 


MISS  LAMB 
"I  am  haunted  by  a  sense  of 
something  divinely  sweet  and 
womanly  beneath  her  impenetrable 
exterior,  and  I  'm  reduced  to  the 
pitiable  condition  of  a  man  perish- 
ing with  thirst  while  he  listens  to 
the  cooling  trickle  of  a  rock-bound 
spring  a  hundred  feet  under- 
ground. She 's  to  be  full  profes- 
sor of  that  damnable  philosophy 
next  year.  Pardon  the  profanity; 
I  fancy  you  '11  find  it  justifiable. 

"W.  G." 

Mrs.  Sayre  to  Mr.  Gregg 
"Dear  Billy  :  I  've  been  feeling 
so  wretchedly  unhappy  for  the  last 
two  years  as  I  reflect  upon  my  own 

[33] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
guilty  complicity  in  this  affair  of 
yours  and  Lamby's,  that  J.  is  quite 
sorry  for  me.  It  \s  effectually 
broken  me  of  the  match-making 
tendency,  though.  Catch  me  ever 
trying  to  make  another  woman 
happy!  Billy,  she  isn't  worth  it. 
She  's  just  a  miserable  little  pink- 
and-white  copy  of  a  psychology 
primer  herself.  I  ought  to  have 
known  better.  The  bare  idea  of 
her  actually  preferring  any  num- 
ber of  ridiculous  letters  after  her 
name  to  the  glory  of  writing  M-r-s. 
before  yours ! 

"And  yet— and  yet— I  had  a 
letter  from  the  creature  this  morn- 
ing, and  in  it  she  said  two  or  three 

[34] 


MISS  LAMB 

things  that  made  me  wonder  if 
she's  quite  so  inhuman  as  she  ap- 
pears. I  've  an  idea,  too, — a  sort 
of  forlorn-hope  scheme.  If 
you  're  not  too  irrevocably  commit- 
ted to  your  Ishmaelitish  idea,  come 
to  Lenox  for  July.  Your  cottage 
is  right  next  to  the  one  we've 
taken  for  the  season.  In  any 
event,  you  couldn't  be  worse  off 
than  you  are.  Besides,  I  want  you 
to  see  your  namesake.  William  is 
simply  immense  in  every  sense  of 
the  word!  I  am  depending  upon 
him  to  cut  this  "Gordon  knot," 
as  Jimmy  calls  it. 

"As  ever,  faithfully  yours, 

"M.  R.  S." 

[35] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 

Mrs.  Say  re  to  Miss  Lamb 

"Dear  Lamby:  We  are  all 
awfully  pleased  to  know  that  you 
can  come  to  us  for  July.  You  '11 
be  delighted  with  William,  I  know. 
We  call  him  William  to  distinguish 
him  from  the  human  male  adult 
known  to  us  as  Billy. 

"William  is  an  absolutely  nor- 
mal specimen  of  The  Child,  and  as 
such  ought  to  engage  your  scientific 
attention  for  at  least  a  month. 
Who  knows  what  new  light  you 
may  be  able  to  shed  upon  the  nature 
of  instinct  as  differentiated  from 
impulse  and  desire,  and  the  correla- 
tion of  all  three  to  the  appetitive 

[36] 


MISS  LAMB 
consciousness !  I  fear  that  William 
at  present  presents  a  sad  example 
of  the  human  infant  swayed  solely 
by  uninhibited  impulse.  But  he  's 
all  the  more  fascinating  on  that 
account. 

"No;  I'm  not  disposed  to  find 
fault  with  you,  Lamby,  because 
you  have  broken  Billy  Gregg's 
heart  and  trampled  him  under  foot 
like  an  earth-worm  for  more  than 
two  years.  I  Ve  carefully  analyzed 
the  matter,  and  concluded  that  you 
are  simply  the  victim  of  a  large 
and  indefinite  amount  of  hallucina- 
tion, and  that  your  sense-percep- 
tions are  correspondingly  deflected 
from  the   normal.       I'm   awfully 

[27] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
sorry  for  you,  Lamby.  I  never 
supposed  that  you  would  so  con- 
fuse the  primary  inferences  with 
true  logical  concepts.  But  per- 
haps you  can't  help  it,  poor  dear! 
"Yours  psychologically, 

"M.  R.  S." 

Excerpt  from  Miss  Lamb's  "Tab- 
ulated Records" 

"I  have  in  immediate  prospect 
the  first  opportunity  of  my  life  to 
study  the  human  infant  at  first 
hand.  William  Sayre  has  attained 
the  age  of  two  years,  a  period 
of  the  greatest  possible  interest 
to  the  psychologist.  In  order  to 
obtain  the  most  complete  account 

[38] 


MISS  LAMB 
of  this  interesting  individual,  I 
shall  in  future  resort  to  the  more 
simple  narrative  style,  interspersed 
with  a  few  brief  tables,  with  a  view 
of  reducing  the  whole  to  an  inti- 
mate psychophysical  study  of  The 
Child  at  my  earliest  opportunity. 
The  circle  of  means  to  be  employed 
will  embrace  (i)  observation;  (2) 
analysis;  (3)  induction;  and  (4) 
the  framing  of  theories,  to  be 
tested,  when  possible,  by  experi- 
ment. 

"Objectively  considered,  the  in- 
dividual William  is  described  in 
appended  table: 

Body— Plump,  well  formed,  ac- 
tive. 

[39] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 

Hair— Reddish,  fine,  curling. 

Skin— Singularly  smooth,  of  a 
delicate  pinkish  tinge  throughout. 

Eyes — Brown,  limpid,  bright. 

Nose — Indeterminate. 

Forehead— Prominent. 

Teeth— Small,  white,  and  sharp. 
{Note.  Upon  being  introduced  to 
the  infant,  it  playfully  bit  my 
hand.) 

"William  is  possessed  of  a  loud, 
resonant  voice  which  he  uses  with- 
out modulation.  Biology  may,  or 
may  not,  be  correct  in  regarding 
every  amoeba  as  endowed  with  a 
will  of  its  own ;  but  there  can  be  no 
reasonable  doubt  that  this  term  de- 
signates a  primary  and  indubitable 

[40] 


MISS  LAMB 
datum  of  William's  consciousness. 
This  datum  may  be  briefly  illus- 
trated thus:  I  met  William  this 
morning  on  the  lawn  in  company 
with  the  nurse-maid.  He  ap- 
proached me  in  the  most  friendly 
manner  and  laid  hold  of  my  gown. 

"'Do  walk?'  he  stammered  in- 
terrogatively. 

"'Yes,  yes,  Master  William,' 
replied  the  nurse,  'William  go 
walk  with  Mary.' 

"  'No— no— no  !'  asseverated 
the  infant,  his  voice  rising  in  ever 
higher  cadences.  'Me  not  walk 
wiv  Mawy.  Me  walk  wiv  my 
Lamby. 

"I   own    that    I    was    primarily 

[41] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 

shocked  and  displeased  at  the  want 
of  respect  indicated  by  this  mode 
of  address;  secondarily,  a  slight 
feeling  of  amusement  mingled  with 
the  transiently  felt  displeasure; 
and,  thirdly,  the  two  first  emotions 
were  speedily  blended  in  one  of 
fatuous  satisfaction  at  the  initial 
triumph  of  my  influence  over  that 
of  the  individual  known  as  Mary. 

"  'You  may  talk  with  me,  Wil- 
liam,' I  said;  'but  you  must  call  me 
Miss  Lamb.' 

"The  child  stared  at  me  thought- 
fully. 'Me  walk  wiv  my  Lamby,' 
he  repeated  firmly,  and  turning  his 
broad,  though  short,  back  upon  his 

[42,1 


MISS  LAMB 
nurse,  he  drew  me  away  through 
the  shrubbery. 

"  'Shall  we  walk  in  this  direc- 
tion, William?'  I  asked,  indicating 
a  path  which  led  toward  the  house. 

"  'No,'  said  the  infant. 

"'Why  not?'  I  inquired.  I 
should  like  to  walk  this  way.' 

"  'No,'  repeated  William,  tersely. 

"I  yielded  to  the  pressure  of  the 
small  fat  hand  within  my  own,  ex- 
periencing a  certain  unknown 
pleasure  in  the  thought  of  surren- 
dering my  own  will  to  this  new  but 
powerful  influence. 

"  'Me  walk  to  barn,'  said  Wil- 
liam, pleasantly.    And  having  no 

[43] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
adequate  inhibitive  objection  to 
proffer  to  the  child,  we  strolled 
down  a  pleasant  path  bordered 
with  blossoming  rose-bushes, 
passed  a  low  hedge,  and  presently 
came  in  sight  of  a  picturesque,  red- 
roofed  building  half  hid  in  trees. 
At  sight  of  it  William  chuckled. 
'Me  like  Unc'  Billy's  barn,'  he  mut- 
tered; 'me  dwive  horsey  wiv  Unc' 
Billy.' 

"I  drew  back  hastily.  'We  must 
return  to  the  house  at  once, 
William,'  I  said  decidedly.  I  did 
not  then  realize  the  identity  of 
the  individual  indicated  by  the  ap- 
pellation 'Unc'  Billy';  but  it  oc- 
curred to  me  that  I   had  unwit- 

[44] 


MISS  LAMB 
tingly    trespassed    upon    another's 
domain. 

"  'No !'  said  William,  tugging 
me  powerfully  in  the  direction  of 
the  red-roofed  building. 

"  'I  shall  certainly  not  yield  to 
your  wishes  in  this  instance, 
William,'  I  said  sternly.  'You 
must,  instead,  surrender  to  my 
higher  sense  of  relativity.  In  a 
word,  we  must  turn  about  at  once.' 

"  'No !'  asseverated  William, 
immediately  exhibiting  a  sudden 
and  intense  discharge  of  nervous 
energy  into  the  vascular,  secretive, 
and  respiratory  organs. 

"I  was  surprised.  I  may  even 
say    shocked — at    what    followed; 

[45] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
William  flung  himself  violently  up- 
on the  ground  at  my  feet  and  gave 
vent  to  the  most  inhuman  outcries. 
Psychologically  considered,  the 
situation  was  a  most  interesting 
one,  as  the  infant  William  was  ex- 
hibiting in  a  marked  degree  that 
state  of  consciousness  termed 
'Bodily  Resonance.'  I  noted  the 
characteristic  clenching  of  the 
fists;  the  setting  together  of  the 
jaws,  alternating  with  a  yawning 
motion  of  the  same  as  the  indi- 
vidual emitted  scream  after  scream 
of  rage ,  the  reddening  of  the  skin ; 
the  suppressed  and  uneven  action 
of  the  respiratory  organs.     I  was 

[46] 


MISS  LAMB 
indeed  so  absorbed  in  observing 
these  (to  me  unfamiliar)  phenom- 
ena that  I  quite  failed  to  hear  the 
rapid  approach  of  foot-steps  from 
two  different  directions. 

"  'Bless  his  little  darling  baby 
heart !'  cried  a  loud,  indignant  voice 
at  my  back;  'did  she  abuse  my 
sweet  pet?  Come  right  here  quick 
to  his  old  nurse ! ' 

"'Do  'way,  Mawy;  do  'way!' 
howled  William,  beating  his  heels 
upon  the  ground  in  a  fresh  paro- 
xysm of  rage.  'Me  want  my  Unc' 
Billy!' 

"  'Hello,  youngster,  what's  up 
now?'  inquired  a  masculine  voice 

[47] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
at   almost  the   same   moment.     I 
looked  up  hastily,  to  encounter  the 
eyes  of  W.  G. 

"I  own  that  the  rhythm  and  in- 
tensity of  my  whole  vasomotor  ap- 
paratus were  quickly  and  pro- 
foundly modified  for  an  instant. 
The  respiratory  mechanism,  in 
particular,  including  the  epiglottis 
and  the  muscles  of  the  diaphragm, 
exhibited  to  a  marked  degree  what 
has  been  well  termed  'objectified 
reluctantism.'  In  a  word,  I  was 
so  surprised  that  I  could  not  for  the 
moment  command  my  powers  of 
speech. 

"W.  G.  spoke  first.  'Oh,  it's 
you?'  he  said  calmly. 

[48] 


MISS  LAMB 

"'Yes/  I  acknowledged,  'It  is  V 

"'What's  the  matter  with  the 
kid?'  he  demanded,  eyeing  me  with 
his  customary  searching  gaze. 

"  'I  don't  know,'  I  confessed. 

"His  face  lighted  up  with  an  ex- 
pression of  intense  satisfaction. 
'Thank  God !'  he  muttered. 

"  'For  what  ?'  I  inquired. 

"  'Never  mind,'  he  replied  has- 
tily; T  '11  explain  some  other  time. 
Wanted  his  Unc'  Billy,  did  he  ?'  he 
continued,  addressing  the  infant, 
who  had  ceased  roaring,  and  was 
now  performing  a  series  of  singu- 
lar gymnastic  exercises  up  his 
trousers  legs. 

"'Yeth,'  lisped  William.  'She 
[49] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
wouldn't  come,'  pointing  a  pudgy 
forefinger  at  me. 

"  'Of  course  not,'  replied  W.  G., 
surveying  me  reproachfully  over 
the  top  of  the  infant's  head.  'She 
never  will  come.  She's  too  awfully 
busy  considering  the  emotional 
state  of  the  other  fellow's  con- 
sciousness and  observing  the  rap- 
idly succeeding  psychoses.  You  '11 
have  your  hands  full  with  William, 
I  fancy,  Miss— ah,  I  beg  pardon, 
Doctor  Lamb.' 

"'I  am  confident  I  shall  find 
William  a  most  interesting  type,' 
I  answered  sincerely.  'That  is, 
primarily,  why  I  am  here.  I  did 
not  expect  to  find  you  here,'  I  added 

[50] 


MISS  LAMB 
pointedly.     As  a  matter  of  fact, 
W.   G.   had  solemnly  assured  me 
only  a  fortnight  since  that  I  should 
never  see  him  again. 

"  'I  did  intend  to  clear  out,'  he 
replied  gloomily,  'but—'  he  paused 
and  again  addressed  the  child. 
'Want  to  dwive  horsey,  kid?' 

"William  replied  by  joyously 
drumming  his  heels  upon  his  ques- 
tioner's broad  chest;  he  was  by 
this  time  perched  on  W.  G.'s 
shoulder. 

"I  could  not  refrain  from  look- 
ing my  admiration  of  the  two,  as 
nearly  perfect  types  of  the  infant 
and  adult  male  human. 

"He  caught  my  glance  and  held 

[5i] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 

it.  'Will  you,  for  once,  do  as  I  ask?' 
he  said  persuasively,  adding  has- 
tily as  I  drew  back  in  alarm,  'No,  it 
isn't  that— this  time;  I  only  want 
you  to  see  William  drive.  He 's 
a  promising  whip  in  embryo;  IVe 
got  him  in  training.' 

"I  reflected  for  a  moment.  T 
have  no  hat  on  in  the  first  place,'  I 
objected  somewhat  weakly.  Tn 
the  second  place,  Mrs.  Sayre 
does  n't  know  where  we  are.' 

"  'Overruled !'  he  cried  joyously, 
'by  a  more  powerful  esthetical  sen- 
timent. Mary,  hurry  and  fetch 
Miss  Lamb's  hat,  and  tell  Mrs. 
Sayre  that  we  are  going  to  drive.' 

"  'You  are  mixing  your  terms/  I 
[52] 


MISS  LAMB 
objected  again;  esthetical  is  not  the 
proper  word  to  apply  to  my  senti- 
ments in  consenting  to  drive  with 
you.' 

"  'Did  I  say  that  I  was  describ- 
ing your  sentiments?'  he  answered 
quickly.  'On  the  contrary,  esthet- 
ical is  the  exact  word  to  define  my 
own  sentiments,  and  it  was  to  them 
I  was  referring.' 

"I  looked  up  at  him  with  an  ir- 
resistible feeling  of  approbation. 
'You  are  improving  in  your  under- 
standing of  psychological  fact, '  I 
could  not  help  saying. 

"  'Good  gracious,  I  should  hope 
so!'  he  exclaimed,  frowning  into 
space.     'I   believe,    if   you    should 

[53] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
really   set   your   mind   to    it,    you 
might  make  a  decently  creditable 
pupil  out  of  me.     Won't  you  try, 
dear?' 

"I  made  no  reply.  Indeed  I 
have  long  since  laid  the  embargo  of 
absolute  inhibition  on  all  such 
queries  from  W.  G. ;  I  regard  them 
as  worse  than  irrelevant. 

"At  this  moment  the  maid  reap- 
peared with  my  hat,  and  there  be- 
ing no  real  reason  why  I  should 
now  refuse  to  accompany  the  two, 
I  walked  with  them  toward  the  red 
barn. 

"'Do  you  know  this  is  really 
your  first  drive  with  me,'  observed 
W.  G.  when  we  were  seated  in  the 

[54] 


MISS  LAMB 
trap,  with  William  ensconced  be- 
tween us.  He  (W.  G.)  looked  so 
exceedingly  well  satisfied  with 
himself  that  I  was  silent  for  a  full 
minute,  being  engaged  in  an  inter- 
esting speculation  on  the  nature  of 
imputability. 

"  'Me  dwive  horsey,'  cooed 
William. 

"  'Certainly,  my  young  friend/ 
said  W.  G.,  passing  the  lines  into 
the  child's  hands. 

"  'Surely  you  are  not  going  to 
allow  the  child  to  guide  the  ani- 
mal?' I  inquired. 

"  'You  are  not  afraid?'  he  asked, 
looking  at  me  curiously. 

"  'I  certainly  am  aware  that  the 

[55] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
lower  animals  do  not  sense,  even 
vaguely,  the  relatedness  of  things,' 
I  replied  with  some  warmth.  'And 
if  so,  are  they  to  be  trusted?'  I 
could  not  repress  a  slight  scream  as 
William  jerked  the  left  rein  in  a  fit 
of  infant  exuberance,  and  the  tall 
bay  threatened  to  bolt  into  the 
creek  in  consequence. 

"  'Then  you  are  afraid  ?'  com- 
mented W.  G.,  and  again  that  puz- 
zling expression  of  intense  satis- 
faction illuminated  his  counte- 
nance. He  laid  a  strong  brown 
hand  on  the  reins,  whereat  William 
gave  vent  to  a  sharp  little  yelp  of 
displeasure.  'Come,  William,  let 
Unc'  Billy  drive.' 

[56] 


MISS  LAMB 

"'No!'  said  William  briefly. 

"  'Guess  you  '11  have  to  till  we 
get  over  this  railroad  crossing, 
youngster,'  and  he  possessed  him- 
self of  the  lines  in  a  masterful 
manner. 

"'No!'  murmured  William,  and, 
stiffening  his  plump  body  into  a 
rigid  perpendicular,  he  slid  off  the 
seat  and  disappeared  beneath  the 
lap-robe. 

"  'He 's  now  correlated  to  a  ram- 
rod by  reason  of  disturbed  idea- 
tion,' said  W.  G.,  pleasantly.  Haul 
him  out,  will  you?  "Bellum"  is 
a  bit  fresh  this  morning.' 

"I  reached  down  and  grasped 
William  by  the  most  salient  portion 

[57] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
of  his  anatomy.  His  weight  seemed 
to  have  increased  to  an  astonishing- 
degree.  He  appeared,  indeed,  to 
be  permanently  attached  to  the 
floor  of  the  trap.  T  can't,'  I  con- 
fessed, glancing  up  to  find  W.  G.'s 
eyes  fastened  expectantly  upon  me. 

"'You  can't?  Well,  upon  my 
word!"  He  pulled  the  lap-robe 
aside,  and  glanced  down  at  the 
huddled  mass  of  infant  humanity 
at  our  feet.  'Come  out  of  there 
and  drive,  William,'  he  com- 
manded. 

"The  child  instantly  raised  his 
hands  to  me,  and  I  lifted  him  to  the 
seat  with  ease. 

"  'Curious  how  the  action  of  the 

[58] 


MISS  LAMB 
infant  will  appears  to  affect  the  in- 
fant's atomic  weight,  isn't  it?'  in- 
quired W.  G. 

"  The  word  "appears"  holds  the 
key  of  the  solution'  I  said  lightly. 
'The  will  could  not,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  do  anything  of  the  sort.' 

"  'You  don't  know  William,'  he 
replied. 

"It  appeared  that  neither  of  us 
knew  William.  At  that  moment 
the  infant  suddenly  leaned  forward, 
snatched  the  whip  from  its  stock, 
hurled  it  over  the  dashboard  with 
a  loud  cry,  and  at  the  same  instant 
dropped  the  reins.  The  whole 
passed  with  the  rapidity  of  thought. 
The  animal  bounded  quickly  for- 

[59] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
ward;  then,   feeling   the  loosened 
reins  about  his  heels,  started  to  run 
jerkily,  gathering  headway  as  he 
went. 

"  'Hold  the  child  and  keep  per- 
fectly quiet,'  commanded  W.  G.  in 
a  low  voice.  Then  he  stepped  over 
the  dashboard  with  the  utmost  cool- 
ness, gathered  up  the  reins,  and  in 
another  instant  was  back  in  his 
place.  We  were  flying  along  at 
a  terrific  pace.  I  had  grasped 
William  in  both  arms  and  held  him 
fast.  My  hat  flew  off;  my  loos- 
ened hair  swept  in  a  bewildering 
cloud  across  my  eyes.  I  do  not  now 
remember  that  I  was  frightened 
for  myself  or  for  William.     My 

[60] 


MISS  LAMB 
whole  consciousness  seemed  pro- 
jected out  of  my  body  and  fastened 
upon  W.  G.  I  have  not  as  yet  been 
able  satisfactorily  to  analyze  this 
singular  fact.  There  would  seem 
to  be  no  adequate  explanation  of  it 
in  the  preceding  psychoses. 

"I  presently  became  aware  that 
the  horse  was  once  more  under 
control,  and  that  W.  G.  was  speak- 
ing to  me. 

"  'Can  you  forgive  me  for  fright- 
ening you  so  ?'  he  asked  softly. 

'"I— I  don't  know/  I  stammered, 
not  in  the  least  knowing  what  I 
said. 

"He    quietly    drew    the    infant 
from  my  rigid  grasp. 
[61] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 

"  'Me  want  dwive  horsey,'  ob- 
served William  mildly. 

"I  am  again  at  a  loss  to  explain 
what  followed,  but  as  I  met  W.  G.'s 
anxious  eyes  I  could  not  refrain 
from  bursting  into  unreasoning 
laughter. 

"  'What  will  you  think  of  me?'  I 
murmured  foolishly,  as  I  gathered 
my  disordered  hair  into  a  knot  and 
looked  vainly  about  for  my  hat. 

"  'Do  you  really  want  to  know, 
dear  ?'  he  asked. 

"Of  course,  this  brought  me  to 
my  senses. 

"Note.  The  above  should  be 
analyzed  with  special  reference  to 
the  psychical  conditions  of  reten- 

[62] 


MISS  LAMB 
tive  memory  as  follows:  (i)  The 
vividness  of  the  impression;  (2)  the 
temporary  mood  at  the  time  of  its 
acquisition;  (3)  the  process  by 
which  the  occurrence  was  wrought 
into  the  texture  of  mental  life;  (4) 
the  logical  connection  between 
the  event  and  established  principles 
and  habits  of  conduct.  Query: 
Does  such  a  logical  connection 
exist?" 

in 

Mrs.  Sayre  removed  the  yellow  en- 
velop without  undue  haste.  "It 's 
from  Jimmy,"  she  exclaimed,  with 
a  peculiar  smile  which  was  quite 

[63] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
lost  on  Dr.  Lamb,  seated  at  the  far- 
ther end  of  the  veranda. 

Dr.  Lamb  was  studiously  observ- 
ing the  infant  William,  who  in  his 
turn  was  stolidly  digging  the  gra- 
vel path  with  a  diminutive  shovel. 

"He  wants  me  to  come  to  town 
this  afternoon,"  continued  Mrs. 
Sayre.  "  'On  business,'  he  says, — 
referring  again  to  the  telegraphic 
message.  Now,  how  absurd! 
What  possible  business  could  Jim- 
my have  which  would  call  me  into 
town  on  a  day  in  July?  I  suppose" 
—regretfully— "that  I  must  go. 
But  it 's  Mary's  day  out,  and  Jane 
has  a  headache.  I  don't  see  how  I 
can  leave  William." 

[64] 


MISS  LAMB 

Miss  Lamb's  serious  face 
brightened.  "I  should  like  no- 
thing better  than  to  have  William 
all  to  myself  this  afternoon,"  she 
said,  with  some  eagerness.  "I 
wish  particularly  to  test  the  child's 
conscious  awareness  as  related  tc 
the  ends  and  reasons  of  his  con- 
duct. Will  you  trust  him  with 
me?" 

Mrs.  Sayre's  brown  eyes 
twinkled.  "I  will,"  she  agreed. 
Then,  without  apparent  relevance, 
she  walked  over  to  Miss  Lamb,  in- 
serted her  white  forefinger  under 
the  tip  of  that  lady's  chin,  and 
stared  thoughtfully  down  at  her. 
"I  don't  suppose  you  Ve  given  the 

[65] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
matter    a    thought,    Lamby;    but 
you  're    quite    irresistible    in    that 
white  gown.     It's  a  pity  to  waste 
it  all  on  William." 

Miss  Lamb  blushed  beautifully. 
"I  shall  not  pretend  that  I  do  not 
understand  you,  Meredith,"  she 
said  firmly;  "and  I  wish  to  take 
this  opportunity  to  tell  you  that 
nothing  will  change  my  determina- 
tion." 

"About  what?"  inquired  Mrs. 
Sayre,  innocently.  "What  are  you 
talking  about,  Lamby  dear  ?"  She 
stooped  and  kissed  Miss  Lamb  with 
a  tantalizing  laugh.  "It  is  evident 
that  your  mind  is  becoming  rapidly 
[66] 


MISS  LAMB 
obsessed  with  a  single  idea — in 
which  case  we  may  look  for  a  train 
of  the  most  singular  phenomena. 
Do  try  to  reserve  a  reasonable 
share  of  your  perceptive  faculties 
for  William.  He  has  a  way  of 
disappearing,  if  one  loses  sight  of 
him  even  for  a  moment.  I  warn 
you.  I  shall  go  out  by  way  of  the 
garden ;  he  '11  howl  if  he  sees  me 
depart." 

Miss  Lamb  gazed  steadfastly 
at  the  industrious  infant.  William 
had  dug  a  hole  of  some  dimensions 
in  the  middle  of  the  walk,  and  was 
engaged  in  planting  pebbles  at  ir- 
regular intervals  about  the  edges 

[67] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
of  it.     Miss   Lamb  made  a  brief 
note  of   the  fact  in  her  book  of 
"Tabulated  Records." 

"Why  did  you  dig  the  hole, 
William?"  she  inquired  in  a 
sprightly  manner  calculated  to  en- 
gage the  infant  attention. 

"I  want  my  muzzer,"  said 
William.  He  arose  unsteadily 
to  his  feet  and  stared  about  him 
truculently. 

Miss  Lamb  hurriedly  noted  that 
The  Child  had  evidently  observed 
his  mother's  departure,  though  at 
the  moment  of  it  he  had  seemed 
oblivious  of  the  fact. 

"I  want  my  muzzer,"  repeated 
William,   doggedly.     The   corners 
[68] 


MISS  LAMB 
of  his  moist,  pink  mouth  suddenly 
dropped;   his   under   lip   projected 
ominously;  two  big  tears  appeared 
simultaneously  in  two  brown  eyes. 

Miss  Lamb  observed  these  phe- 
nomena with  mingled  emotions. 
"Don't  cry,  William,"  she  advised 
with  some  urgency.  "We'll — why, 
we'll—"  She  stared  about  her 
distractedly.  "I'll  tell  you;  we'll 
write  in  the  book.  Shall  we  write 
in  the  nice  book,  William?"  She 
proffered  the  volume  of  "Tabulated 
Records"  to  the  infant  with  a 
timidly  ingratiating  manner. 

William  fell  upon  the  object 
avidly.  He  hurled  it  violently  to 
the  earth.     He  kicked  it  with  an 

[69] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
appearance  of  intelligent  dislike. 
He  then  climbed  upon  it  and 
jumped  up' and  down.  But  thus  far 
the  experiment  was  a  gratifying 
success :  William  had  not  cried.  In- 
deed, the  expression  of  his  youthful 
countenance  had  become  increas- 
ingly cheerful.  "I  like  to  tear 
books,"  he  muttered,  stooping  to 
lay  hold  upon  his  quarry. 

Miss  Lamb  gazed  helplessly  at 
the  destroyer;  then  her  eye  fell 
upon  a  scarlet  object,  lavishly  be- 
dizened with  brass  bells,  which  lay 
in  the  grass  at  her  feet.  She 
breathed  a  hopeful  sigh.  "Just 
see    here,    William,"    she    cooed, 

[70] 


MISS  LAMB 
dangling  the  scarlet  object  allur- 
ingly before  the  absorbed  infant. 
"Here  is  your  nice,  pretty  harness ! 
Let 's  leave  the  stupid  book  and 
play  horsey.  Come,  dear;  please 
play  horsey  wiv  oor  Lamby!" 

Miss  Lamb's  pink-and-white 
countenance  had  assumed  a  reck- 
less and  dare-devil  expression 
which  William  seemed  to  approve. 
He  ceased  to  center  his  earnest  re- 
gard upon  the  volume  of  "Tabu- 
lated Records,"  which  he  dismissed 
with  a  final  buffet  of  scorn.  "Me 
play  horsey  wiv  oo,"  he  assented, 
with  immense  condescension. 

Miss    Lamb    extended   the    tin- 

[71] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
kling  harness.     "Come,  William/' 
she  twittered  joyously;  "come  and 
get  the  straps  on!" 

But  William  stood  still  in  his 
tracks,  staring  stonily  at  the  scar- 
let object.  "Me  dwive  horsey,"  he 
finally  remarked,  with  a  mordant 
emphasis  which  the  intelligent 
Miss  Lamb  had  no  difficulty  in  un- 
derstanding. 

"Oh,"  she  cried,  with  sudden  in- 
spirational utterance,  "you  want 
Lamby  to  be  horsey.     Is  that  it?" 

"Yeth,"  assented  William.  "Me 
want  whip,  too.  Me  whip  Lamby 
hard.     Me  make  Lamby  do  fast !" 

Miss  Lamb  hastily  invested  her- 
self with  the  scarlet  straps.     Then 

[72] 


MISS  LAMB 
she  pranced  diplomatically  before 
the  infant,  extending  the  reins  with 
one  hand. 

"Me  want  whip,"  repeated 
William,  stolidly. 

"Oh,  no,  William;  you  do  not 
need  a  whip,"  argued  Miss  Lamb, 
earnestly.  "Lamby  do  fast — very 
fast — see?"  and  the  professor  of 
physiological  psychology  dashed 
excitedly  up  and  down  the  gravel 
path  in  an  illustrative  manner. 

William's  thoughtful  gaze  once 
more  reverted  to  the  volume  of 
"Tabulated  Records"  which  lay  at 
his  feet,  its  learned  leaves  flutter- 
ing in  the  light  summer  breeze. 

"See,   William;   here    is   a   nice 

[73] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
long  whip,"  exclaimed  Miss  Lamb, 
pressing  a  lithe  switch  hastily 
plucked  from  a  neighboring  lilac 
into  the  pudgy  hand.  "It'll  hurt 
horsey  and  make  her  do  fast,"  she 
added  artfully. 

William  laid  a  heavy  grasp  upon 
the  lines,  his  youthful  countenance 
settling  into  an  expression  of  mas- 
culine severity.  "Det— tup!"  he 
exclaimed,  and  the  lilac  switch  em- 
phasized the  command. 

Miss  Lamb  ambled  joyously 
away  from  the  dangerous  prox- 
imity of  the  "Tabulated  Records." 

"Let  us  go  to  the  sand-pile  and 
dig,  William,"  she  suggested,  after 
an    erratic    and    extended    course 

[74] 


MISS  LAMB 
through     the     shrubbery,     during 
which  William  plied  the  lilac  switch 
with  vigor  and  frequency. 

"Det — tup !"  responded  William. 
"Horsey  do  fast;  horsey  not  talk." 

Miss  Lamb's  thoughts  wandered 
longingly  to  the  distant  volume 
of  "Tabulated  Records."  Men- 
tally she  noted:  "The  Child  exhi- 
bits astonishing  powers  of  obser- 
vation. Query:  Does  William 
possess  any  adequate  conception  of 
the  ratiocinative  processes  as  serv- 
ing the  ends  of  knowledge  ?  Does 
he  not,  in  this  instance,  vaguely 
sense  the  relatedness  of  things  in 
common  with  some  of  the  lower 
animals?"     Her     pace     insensibly 

[75] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
slackened  to  a  slow  walk.     A  sharp 
cut  of  the  lilac  switch  recalled  her 
wandering  thoughts  to  the  psychic 
instant. 

"Det— tup!"  commanded  Wil- 
liam. 

During  the  period  of  strenuous 
bodily  exercise  which  immediately 
ensued,  Miss  Lamb  noted  some- 
what unscientifically  her  own  sense 
of  fatigue  as  correlated  to  the  com- 
pelling action  of  the  lilac  switch. 
"Why  do  I  not  oppose  a  definite 
conative  activity  to  the  erratic 
volitional  impulses  of  the  infant?" 
she  asked  herself. 

Suddenly  and  without  warning 
William    pulled    lustily    upon    the 

[  7&] 


MISS  LAMB 
lines.     "Whoa!"   he  shouted,   and 
again  applied  the  gad  to  his  dispir- 
ited steed  by  way  of  final  reminder. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with 
horsey  now,  William?"  inquired 
Miss  Lamb,  meekly. 

"Me  doin'  to  hits'  my  horsey- 
Lamb,"  replied  William,  with  grat- 
ifying mildness.  The  child's  red 
curls  clung  in  moist  rings  to  his 
pink  forehead,  his  scarlet  lips  were 
thrust  into  inviting  prominence, 
his  round  cheeks  glowed  like  the 
heart  of  a  rose. 

Miss  Lamb  surveyed  him  with  a 
new  and  delightful  sense  of  pro- 
prietorship. "Do  you  love  me, 
William?"  she  murmured,  sinking 

[77] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
to  her  knees  before  her  taskmaster. 
By  way  of  answer,  the  infant 
precipitated  his  moist  little  person 
into  the  outstretched  arms  of  the 
lady.  He  hugged  her  mightily 
with  two  soft,  fat  arms  in  which  a 
surprising  amount  of  masculine 
muscle  was  already  apparent. 
"Tiss  me !"  he  commanded. 

Miss  Lamb  obeyed  with  slavish 
alacrity.  "Will  you  kiss  me,  Wil- 
liam?" she  whispered,  hiding  her 
laughing  face  upon  the  infant's 
small  shoulder. 

"No,"  said  William,  calmly;  "me 
dig  in  sand-pile." 

Miss  Lamb  strove  for  the  mo- 
ment to  content  her  active  mind 

[78] 


MISS  LAMB 
with  mental  notes.  "It  is  evident 
that  William  has  already  acquired 
the  elementary  consciousness  of 
causation  as  dependent  upon  cona- 
tion and  in  association  with  the 
feeling  of  effort  suggested  by  the 
use  of  the  muscles.  Query:  How 
shall  I  correlate  the  immediately 
succeeding  idea  of  digging  in  the 
sand-pile  to  the  foregoing  estheti- 
cal  impulse?  A  most  instructive 
incident  from  a  psychogenetic 
point  of  view." 

Miss  Lamb's  fingers  closed  long- 
ingly upon  her  fountain-pen.  "If  I 
could  only  get  that  book !"  she  mur- 
mured, glancing  apprehensively 
at    the    infant.     William's    broad 

[79] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
back  was  turned  squarely  upon  the 
lady;  he  appeared  completely  ab- 
sorbed in  his  present  occupation 
of  sifting  sand  into  his  shoe,  which 
he  had  removed  for  the  purpose. 

After  a  strenuous  mental  argu- 
ment with  her  volitional  conscious- 
ness, Miss  Lamb  arose  and  stole 
furtively  away  through  the  shrub- 
bery. 

An  hour  later  Mr.  Gregg,  en- 
sconced in  a  hammock  on  his  own 
veranda,  somnolently  engaged  in 
some  unknown  but  pleasing  train 
of  thought,  became  aware  of  the 
hasty  approach  of  a  charming  but 
somewhat  disheveled  figure.  He 
sprang  to  nis  feet. 
[So] 


MISS  LAMB 

"Are  you  there,  Bi— I  mean  Mr. 
Gregg?"  inquired  a  faint  voice. 

"Miss  Lamb!"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Gregg.  "Why,  what  has  hap- 
pened?   What  is  the  matter?" 

"I  Ve  lost  him,"  wailed  the  lady, 
sinking  down  upon  the  steps  of  the 
veranda  in  an  attitude  of  poignant 
despair.     "What  shall  I  do?" 

Mr.  Gregg  sat  down  at  her  side 
and  thoughtfully  passed  an  arm 
about  her  slender  waist.  "Lost 
what,  dearest?     Tell  me— do." 

"I've  lost  William!" 

Pressed  for  an  explanation,  Miss 
Lamb  further  confessed  her  nefa- 
rious abandonment  of  the  infant  in 
order  to  regain  the  volume  of 
[81] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
"Tabulated  Records."  "I  was 
gone  for  only  a  very  few  minutes," 
she  urged,  "and  I  kept  looking  at  a 
bit  of  white  which  I  could  see 
through  the  trees,  and  which  1 
thought  was  William's  dress.  But, 
oh,  it  wasn't  his  dress  at  all,  as  I 
found  when  I  returned;  it  was  his 
hat  which  he  had  thrown  down. 
I  've  looked  in  every  conceivable 
place  since,  and  I  can't  find  it." 

"Find  what — the  Tabulated 
Records'?"  Mr.  Gregg  wanted  to 
know.  He  appeared  strangely  un- 
moved by  the  terrible  intelligence, 
and  Miss  Lamb  turned  upon  him 
with  sudden  fierceness. 

"Tabulated    Records?'"      she 
[82] 


MISS  LAMB 
cried.  "No;  I  did  not  find  that 
wretched  book.  It  has  disappeared 
completely.  Did  you  suppose  for 
an  instant  that  I  came  here  to 
tell  you  that  ?  No ;  I  meant  the  in- 
fant—  I  meant  William.  And  you" 
— with  gathering  indignation — 
"don't  seem  to  care  at  all." 

"Yes,  I  do,"  amended  Mr. 
Gregg,  seriously.  "But,  you  see, 
I  'm  used  to  this ;  William  runs 
away  bi-weekly,  on  the  average.  I 
guess  I  can  locate  him  without 
much  trouble.  Did  you  inquire  at 
the  stables  ?" 

"Of  course  I  did,"  declared 
Miss  Lamb.  "I  Ve  looked  every- 
where, and  he  's — he  's  gone,  I  tell 

[83] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
you!     Do     you     suppose"— in     a 
heartbreaking  whisper — "that  some 
wretch  has  stolen  him?" 

Mr.  Gregg  looked  grave.  "I 
had  n't  thought  of  that,"  he  ad- 
mitted. "See  here,  dear;  you're 
utterly  played  out  with  the  heat 
and  excitement  and  all;  just  wait 
here  for  a  minute,  while  I  glance 
into  one  or  two  of  the  infant's  fa- 
vorite haunts.  I  '11  unearth  the 
young  rascal— see  if  I  don't!" 

Miss  Lamb  looked  up  at  him 
tearfully.  "If  you  only  will,"  she 
murmured  faintly,  "I — " 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Gregg,  pausing 
expectantly. 

"Oh,  I  '11  do  anything  for  you — 

[84] 


MISS  LAMB 
anything! "  wailed  Miss  Lamb, 
with  a  reckless  gesture.  "Only  find 
him !  If  he 's  lost,  what  could  I  say 
to  Meredith !  She  warned  me  not 
to  leave  him  even  for  an  instant." 

Mr.  Gregg  walked  rapidly  to- 
ward the  stables  with  the  air  of  a 
man  suddenly  confronted  with  the 
gravest  crisis  of  his  life.  He  came 
presently  upon  his  coachman,  pla- 
cidly rubbing  up  a  bit  of  silver- 
plated  harness  in  the  open  door  of 
the  carriage-house.  "Were  you 
here,  Mulligan,  when  Miss  Lamb 
stopped  to  inquire  after  William?" 
he  demanded. 

"Yis,  sor,"  replied  the  man,  im- 
perturbably. 

[85] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
"Then  why  are  you  not  scouring 
the  neighborhood  for  the  boy? 
Drop  that  harness  this  instant ;  call 
every  man  on  the  place,  and  set 
them  to  looking  for  the  child.  I  've 
got  to  find  him  at  once." 

Mulligan  grinned  cheerfully. 
"If  you'll  just  step  this  way,  sor, 
I  '11  put  you  on  to  the  track  of  the 
young  gentleman.  Bless  'im!  'e 
ain't  born  to  come  to  no  harm,  sor, 
that  'e  ain't— if  the  women-folks  '11 
only  leave  'im  be."  The  man  tip- 
toed into  the  carriage-house,  beck- 
oning his  master  to  follow.  And 
there,  curled  snugly  under  the  seat 
of  the  trap,  his  curly  head  pillowed 
comfortably  on  a  lap-robe,  lay  Wil- 
[86] 


MISS  LAMB 
Ham,   a   pink   thumb  in   a   pinker 
mouth,  his  eyes  closed,  his  plump 
body  plainly  abandoned  to  delicious 
and  fathomless  slumber. 

Mr.  Gregg  started  forward  with 
a  smothered  exclamation  of  relief. 

"Better  leave  'im  to  get  'is  sleep 
out,  sor,"  objected  Mulligan.  "It 's 
bad  luck  to  be  wakin'  a  child  out  of 
a  rest  like  that,  sor;  'e's  the  life 
worrited  out  of  'im  with  bein'  took 
care  of  too  much,  poor  little  chap!" 

Mr.  Gregg  stood  for  a  moment, 
lost  in  thought.  Then  he  laid '  a 
compelling  hand  on  Mulligan's 
shoulder.  "See  here,  Mulligan," 
he  said,  when  the  two  were  outside 
once  more,  "do  you  suppose  you 

[87] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
could  put  a  horse  into  that  trap 
without  waking  up  the  kid?" 

"Sure,  sor,"  grinned  Mulligan; 
"  'e  's  good  for  an  hour,  easy." 

"It  '11  be  worth  ten  dollars  to  you 
if  you  can,  my  man.  Be  quick 
about  it;  there's  no  time  to  lose." 

As  Mr.  Gregg  approached  the 
house,  he  perceived,  to  his  delight, 
Miss  Lamb  sitting  upon  the  steps 
of  the  veranda,  in  the  same  dejected 
attitude  in  which  he  had  left  her. 

"You  haven't  found  William," 
she  greeted  him  in  a  tone  of  calm 
despair.  "I  did  n't  expect  you 
would.  I  have  thought  it  all  over 
since  you  left  me,  and  I  see  quite 
plainly  that  I  have  brought  it  upon 
[88] 


MISS  LAMB 

myself.  It  is  an  inevitable  se- 
quence. To  think  of  my  prefer- 
ring a  book  of  'Tabulated  Records' 
— or  any  sort  of  book — to — to 
William!  I  wonder  how  any  one 
could  love  me  all  these  years !  No ; 
don't  speak  to  me!  Don't  try  to 
comfort  me !" 

"But  I  only  wanted  to  tell  you 
that  I  have  news  of— that  is,  I 
think  we  shall  be  able  to  get  on  the 
track  of —  Come,  dear,  brace  up! 
We  shall  have  to  drive  for  a  bit, 
and  there's  no  time  to  lose.  If 
he  should  wake  up  before—"  The 
mendacious  Mr.  Gregg  groaned 
aloud  in  wordless  agitation. 
"Hold   on   a    minute,"    he    added 

[89] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
hastily;  "I  must  ring  up  Dr.  Mor- 
ton before  we  start." 

"Who  is  Dr.  Morton?"  demanded 
Miss  Lamb,  with  stony  compo- 
sure. He  had  rejoined  her  with  an 
expression  of  countenance  which 
left  no  room  for  hope.  "But,  no; 
you  need  n't  tell  me.  I  understand 
it  all  now.  I  shall  be  brave— I 
shall  shrink  from  nothing." 

Mr.  Gregg  had  grasped  the  agi- 
tated Miss  Lamb  by  the  arm  and 
was  hurrying  her  forward  with 
long,  irregular  strides  toward  the 
stables.  "Is  it  all  right,  Mulli- 
gan?" he  whispered,  as  he  handed 
the  lady  to  her  place. 

"Yis,  sor,"  replied  Mulligan,  as 

[90] 


MISS  LAMB 
he  touched  the  brim  of  his  cap; 
"  'e  's  tight  as  a  trivet,  sor,  bless 
'im!" 

"Where  are  we  going?"  ventured 
Miss  Lamb  in  a  small,  weak 
voice.  They  had  driven  a  mile  or 
more  along  the  quiet  country  road, 
and  Mr.  Gregg  had  thus  far  offered 
no  sort  of  explanation.  He  had, 
instead,  stared  unremittingly  at  the 
back  of  his  horse,  a  slightly  grim 
and  forbidding  expression  on  his 
handsome  face.  Miss  Lamb  put 
out  an  imploring  little  hand. 
"Won't  you  please  tell  me?"  she 
begged. 

Mr.  Gregg  looked  down  at  her, 
the  grim  look  deepening  into  one 

[91  ] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 
of  masterful  determination. 
"Yes,"  he  said  sternly,  "I  will  tell 
you.  But  first  you  must  promise 
to  answer  truthfully  three  ques- 
tions.    Will  you  do  it?" 

"Y-e-s,"  faltered  Miss  Lamb, 
with  a  frightened  quiver  of  her 
sweet,  pallid  face. 

"First,"  began  Air.  Gregg,  with 
business-like  coldness,  "what  is 
your   name — your   given   name,    I 


mean 


"My  name  is  Rosemary,"  replied 
Miss  Lamb,  staring  at  her  inquisi- 
tor with  wide  blue  eyes.  "But 
why-" 

"Never  mind  why;  you  will  see 
presently.     Question  number   two 

" [92] 


MISS  LAMB 
— be  careful  to  answer  this  truth- 
fully.     Do    you    love    me,    Rose- 
mary?" 

"I-I  don't  know." 

"Be  careful,"  frowned  Mr. 
Gregg.  "Once  again:  Do  you 
love  me?" 

"Y-e-s,"  faltered  Miss  Lamb. 
"But"— with  a  sudden  rush  of 
poignant  recollection — "I've  no 
right  to  love  anybody  now  that 
William  is-" 

"Never  mind  William ;  I  'm  com- 
ing to  him  directly.  Question 
number  three :  Did  you,  or  did  you 
not,  promise,  without  reservations, 
to  do  anything  I  asked,  provided  I 
would  produce  the  boy?" 

[93] ' 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 

"I — I  don't  know,"  prevaricated 
Miss  Lamb,  wildly. 

"Well,  I  do,"  said  Mr.  Gregg, 
coolly;  "and,  what  is  more,  you  do, 
too.  Now  I  '11  tell  you  what  I  want 
right  now.  I  want  you  to  marry 
me." 

"You  '11  have  to  produce  William 
first,  and"— with  wan  triumph— 
"you  can't  do  that !  " 

"Can't  I?"  asked  Mr.  Gregg. 
"Just  watch  me!"  He  leaned 
down  and  fumbled  under  the  seat. 
A  sharp  little  yelp  of  displeasure 
greeted  the  exploring  hand. 

"Oh!  What  is  that  noise?"  cried 
Miss  Lamb,  with  a  start  of  raptur- 
ous amazement. 

[94] 


MISS  LAMB 

"The  youngster  's  pretty  nearly 
as  heavy  as  when  he  's  mad,"  grum- 
bled Mr.  Gregg.  "You  '11  have  to 
help  me  get  him  out  of  here." 

"But  you  knew  where  he  was  all 
the  while,"  objected  Miss  Lamb,  re- 
proachfully, after  a  few  minutes 
devoted  to  the  joys  of  blissful  re- 
union. 

"Upon  my  word,  Rosemary,  I 
did  not.  That  is,  I  did  n't  know  it 
when  you  promised  to  marry  me." 

"I  did  n't  promise  to  marry  you." 

"You  promised  to  do  whatever  I 
asked,  and"— triumphantly— "you 
knew  that  was  the  only  thing  I 
cared  about.  You  Ve  known  it  for 
years." 

[95] 


THE  INTELLECTUAL 

"But — but,  you  did  n't  mean 
now— right  away?  I— I  could  n't, 
you  know.  You  were  joking, 
weren't  you,  Billy — dear?" 

Her  look  of  entreaty  was  so  dan- 
gerously sweet  that  Mr.  Gregg 
almost  lost  his  head.  It  was  Wil- 
liam who  happily  recalled  him  to 
his  senses. 

"Me  want  dwive  horsey,"  mur- 
mured the  infant,  gently. 

"I  meant  every  word  of  it,  dear- 
est," said  Mr.  Gregg,  firmly.  "In 
fact,  I  telephoned  Dr.  Morton  be- 
fore we  left  home ;  he  '11  be  expect- 
ing us." 

"Who  is  Dr.  Morton?"  de- 
manded     Miss      Lamb,      crisply. 

[96] 


MISS  LAMB 
She  straightened  her  trim  figure 
slightly  as  she  asked  the  question. 

"We— want  —  dwive  —  horsey !" 
vociferated  William  in  stentorian 
tones. 

"Shall  I  give  him  the  reins, 
Rosemary?"  asked  Mr.  Gregg, 
glancing  at  the  lady  with  a  quizzi- 
cal smile. 

"No— oh,  no!  That  is— I  think 
I  would  rather  get  out,  please," 
faltered  Miss  Lamb. 

Mr.  Gregg  drew  up  sharply  be- 
fore a  neat  white  house  half  hidden 
in  trees.  "Urn — yes,"  he  said; 
"well,  we  '11  all  get  out  here  for  a 
few  minutes." 

An  hour  later,  when  Mr.  Gregg 

[97] 


MISS  LAMB 
pulled  up  his  big  brown  cob  with  a 
brazenly  triumphant  nourish  be- 
fore the  veranda  of  the  Sayre  resi- 
dence, its  master  and  mistress  were 
discovered  talking  anxiously  to- 
gether. "—Completely  disappeared; 
I  found  his  hat  and  one  shoe,"  Mrs. 
Sayre  was  saying,  when  she  broke 
into  a  cry  of  relieved  astonishment. 
"Why,  Lamby,  where  have  you 
been?  Do  you  know  we've  been 
almost  frightened  to  death  about 
William?  I  might  have  known 
you  were  at  the  bottom  of  it,  Billy 
Gregg.  What  have  you  been  doing 
to  make  Lamby  look  like  that? 
And  William,  too!  Oh,  you  shock- 

[98] 


MISS  LAMB 
ingly   dirty  child— with   one  shoe 
off!    Come  here  to  your  suffering 
parents." 

"He  's  been  best  man  at  a  wed- 
ding," explained  Mr.  Gregg,  cheer- 
fully, as  he  handed  the  infant  over 
the  wheel ;  "and  that  nearly  always 
knocks  a  fellow  out,  you  know." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  sor;  but  I 
thought  maybe  you  'd  have  missed 
this,  sor,"  interrupted  a  respectful 
voice  from  the  rear,  and  Mulligan 
presented  to  view  a  torn  and  mud- 
died mass  of  pulpy  paper,  which 
appeared  to  have  been  written  over 
in  a  small,  neat  hand.  "I  hope,  sor, 
as    it    ain't    anythin'    valyble;    I 

[99] 


MISS  LAMB 
found  the  bull-pup  a-chewin'  of  it 
behind    the   stables.      I  'm    afraid 
he  's  e't  up  a  good  bit  of  it,  sor." 

Mrs.  William  Gregg  glanced  at 
the  object  thoughtfully.  "It  ap- 
pears to  be  my  volume  of  Tabu- 
lated Records,'  "  she  said,  with  as- 
tonishing calmness.  "Thank  you, 
Mulligan;  you  may  take  it  away." 


[  ioo] 


sZ7 


THE  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

Santa  Barbara 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW. 


3  1205  02043  8808 

UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A  A         001  423  950 


